Lost and Found
by LeighBarlow
Summary: An elderly woman finds a stray in an alley in Founders’ Fall. She decides to take it in and care for it. More stories and background notes can be found at my web site for anyone who are interested.


**Lost and Found** - A story set in the MMO world of City of Heroes

I remember the day I found Max. It was a Wednesday morning in June. The weather was good, and I had left the apartment early to get a paper. This was certainly not a day I would have expected something odd to happen, but then I've lived in this city long enough that so few things appear strange these days.

My usual route to the store was via the little bridge on to Lexington and then right on to Ribbersdale. I've always avoided the alleys between the apartment blocks as there are still too many of those aliens teleporting out of goodness knows where and a woman of my advancing years, as my nephew would say, doesn't want to get in to a fight, or even have to run for her life. That Wednesday as I looked over the water to Lexington I could see a group of Circle standing around and if there's one thing we have all learnt to avoid more than the aliens it's the Circle. So, instead of crossing over I continued on past the bridge and decided to cut through the alley where our building sat alongside the next one.

Even in somewhere as clean and well kept as Founders' there is often some litter lying around. Ivy and a few of the others blame it on the street sweepers always being chased by Circle cultists, but I think it's just young people these days who cannot be bothered to do a proper job. Simon, my nephew who comes to visit every now and then, claims I'm just getting like all the other old people and forgetting what it was like when I was young. He's probably right, but I'll keep denying it while I can.

As I came close to the end of the alley, where it opens up on to the canal, I had to step around a small pile of papers and a cardboard box. I glanced briefly down at the rubbish and just as I looked away I thought I caught a glimpse of something. It was one of those moments where your body carries on doing what it had been while your brain works things out, and I was a few steps closer to the end of the alley before I stopped and turned back to the refuse. I can't tell you now what caught my eye and I don't think I could have told you then. Something I had seen looked slightly out of the ordinary and nothing to do with cardboard or rubbish. Something with more life in it than a piece of paper.

Moving around I looked down at the pile and tried to find the same angle from which I had caught the sight of whatever it was. It was difficult to see exactly what was hiding in there as the alley, like all of those in Founders', was in shade due to the tall buildings, and it took me a few moments to find what I was looking for – a small sliver of a leg.

I just stood there looking through the little window of rubbish and found myself torn between wanting to move things aside to find out what was there and a fear that it was something dangerous. Suspicion is something we have all come to live with in the modern world. I'm sure it's another one of those getting old things that makes Simon smile and look like he is going to pat me on the head, but for me there is always something to be wary of when I don't have the confidence of the young.

My uncertainty made me glance back the way I had come, and I also turned and looked towards the other end of the alley where the sunlight was catching the tops of the small waves on the canal. Then I made up my mind, I suppose you could say I got a hold of myself or plucked up some courage, and I bent down towards the small pile.

Even with this new found nerve I was still slightly cautious of what was hidden under the box and I hesitated briefly, just like when we used to dare each other to touch the electric fence as children on the farm. Then I pushed aside some of the surrounding bits of paper and with a small flick turned aside the box covering the thing. At the same time I took an involuntary step backwards.

I'm not sure what I had expected to see. I think part of me thought it would be nothing, a fluffy toy or a clump of old clothes that had looked like something alive when in shadow. The sight of the poor little thing lying there on its side was certainly not what I was expecting, and when it turned its head and looked up at me with those large eyes I was snapped back in to action.

"You poor thing," I heard myself say, and without putting any more thought in to it I bent down and scooped it up using the cardboard it had been lying on. There was a kind of twitching and a shudder from it and as I brought it closer I could see that its breathing was laboured. There wasn't any blood where it had been lying so I presumed it might just be suffering from being out for a few nights.

"Let's get you home and fed," I told it. "It looks like you haven't eaten for days."

I traced my path back to the apartment building, watching the group of Circle from the corner of my eye. They hadn't moved, and were still stood around talking and waving their arms at each other. As would usually happen there would be a hero along sometime soon who would send them off to prison. I always wondered why they never learnt that standing around in plain view attracted the attention of heroes, but they never seemed to.

There weren't any other residents in the lobby and I hurriedly pressed the button for a lift. I spent the time as I headed up towards my floor looking at my little find and making reassuring noises. Once back home I busied myself trying to make him comfortable. My life spent as a secretary had given me no particular skills with animals. I'd been without Bob for seven years since he passed away with cancer and retirement had started to become lonely, so maybe it was my misplaced need to have a man back in the house that made me think of him as male.

I found a plastic basket I'd been using to put out the recycling and lined it with some old sheets, and then I took him in to the kitchen while I made up some food. Having hunted through all the cupboards and the fridge a couple of times I settled on making a small puree from some fruit, and gave it to him on a small plate. He seemed to enjoy it so I made up some more for latter. I also found a bowl and filled that with water and then I moved us both in to the lounge and settled down on the settee to watch some TV while I kept an eye on him.

Later that afternoon my thoughts started to turn to what to call him. I think I'd already decided at that point to keep him. If I'd had a house away from the city I would have got a dog, but living in an apartment this was out of the question for me. A couple of my friends had birds, parrots I think, but they never appealed to me. You couldn't cuddle a parrot or curl up with it on a winter's night. I settled on the name Max in the end. I'm not sure where it came from, but it seemed appropriate and he seemed to like it when I told him.

Over the next couple of days I spent my time sorting things out for Max. I bought him a proper bowl for water and one for food both from the local pet shop. I also tried a number of different types of cat food before settling on one he seemed to like. BY the next morning my concern regarding his health had dwindled as he was already starting to look a lot brighter, and within a few days he had perked up no end. I even caught him sitting on the lounge windowsill watching the birds go by.

Once Max had settled in I called one of my close friends, Martha, to tell her about my new pet. She was amazed I'd picked up a stray in the street and admonished me about the risk of fleas and other ailments I could have brought back in to the apartment. She asked me if I'd taken him to the vet and had I tried to track down the previous owner, but I found myself making excuses for not doing either. Max was looking well and he was getting stronger so what was the need for a visit to the vet. It would only upset him. It was also clear from where I'd found him that he hadn't been loved by his previous owner, so there was no point looking for anyone to give him back to. Left alone to die, I thought, was the more than likely explanation as to why he was wandering around the streets and sleeping in cardboard boxes in alleys. Besides all that, I had really started to like having him around and I didn't want to chance him being taken away from me.

I've now had Max for just over a week and he's already become part of the household. He's certainly a cleaver little thing. Most people say that a dog is the best companion to keep around, and I would have agreed until I got Max. The difference is that Max can look after himself when I go out and is quite happy to sleep on the chair all day. A dog would be far too demanding for what I want. I'm happy with Max and he seems happy with me. I already know I'd feel lonely without him. It's strange, but I had considered myself an independent woman since Bob passed away - I never thought I'd be saying I needed a pet in the apartment.

Martha is coming around for coffee this afternoon and while I can't wait for her to meet Max, I'm not sure how she's going to react to me having a Rikti Monkey as a pet. I'll just have to talk her round to the idea.


End file.
